


Like A Leech To Flesh

by Fuji09



Series: Leech Off Me [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Almost Drowning, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Avery Hockstetter Lives, Avery has autism, Bugs & Insects, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Richie Tozier, Gay Sex, Grinding, Henry Bowers Being an Asshole, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Marijuana, Mentioned Henry Bowers's Gang, Mentioned Maggie Tozier & Wentworth Tozier, Minecraft, Overstimulation, Patrick Hockstetter centric, Patrick Hockstetter is His Own Warning, Patrick is 19, Patrick is a good brother, Physical Abuse, Recreational Drug Use, Richie Tozier is Bad at Feelings, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Richie is 18, Sexual Tension, Smut, Soft Richie Tozier, Underage Drinking, leeches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26251912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuji09/pseuds/Fuji09
Summary: The louder Henry got, the more annoyed Patrick was getting and he was ready to punch Henry in the face. Victor and Belch were quiet, not wanting to piss Henry off, but Patrick wasn't afraid to do so. He was the only person in Derry who was not afraid of Henry Bowers.Although Patrick was afraid of almost nothing in the commonly understood sense of the word (it's hard to be afraid of things that aren't "real"), there was at least one thing that filled him with wretched loathing. He had come out of Brewster Lake one warm August day when he was seven to discover four or five leeches clinging to his stomach and legs.
Relationships: Patrick Hockstetter/Richie Tozier
Series: Leech Off Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057358
Comments: 17
Kudos: 95
Collections: Labor Day Book Quote Challenge (2020)





	Like A Leech To Flesh

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic is part of a Labor Day book quote challenge that @bimmyshrug and @richieblows created! We all picked a quote from the book and then wrote a fic based on it or had the quote in it.
> 
> Mine is "Although Patrick was afraid of almost nothing in the commonly understood sense of the word (it's hard to be afraid of things that aren't "real"), there was at least one thing that filled him with wretched loathing. He had come out of Brewster Lake one warm August day when he was seven to discover four or five leeches clinging to his stomach and legs."

In the small town of Derry, Maine things weren't the same as they were everywhere else. You could almost say the town stopped changing with the times once it hit the eighties. Derry still had an arcade that the kids and teenagers would go to daily, homophobia was still just as bad as it was in the fifties, and everyone knew everyone.

The quaint little town of Derry had some good qualities, but those qualities were always tarnished by the bad. You always had eyes on you, people turned a blind eye to the horrors of murder and assault, kidnapping was normal every couple of decades, and the police never bothered to stop bullies from causing real harm to others.

This town was perfect for one Patrick Hockstetter. He was born and raised in Derry, he had a group of friends he tolerated, Henry Bowers, the leader of the gang and he swore the guy had a hard on for him, Victor Criss, the quiet guy who seemed to almost just being there to not get bullied himself, and then there was Belch Huggins, the guy who tried to act gross around their victims but to be honest was a giant teddy bear who got scared of Henry going too far.

Those were the guys Patrick hung around, his "friends". Patrick could take them or leave them, he never felt like he truly belonged around anyone, he hated people, most of the time he felt that the world around him wasn't even real, he disassociated a lot and he was known for burning not only himself but others too.

The way he saw it, he was stuck in prison where nothing was real but him, and he just had to bide his time until he was free. This feeling grew worse as he got older, until he got to the point where he was always believing this, he never had moments anymore where he thought his surroundings were just as real as himself.

He was also what his parents called a pyromaniac. He played with fire since he was four years old and constantly burned himself. Most of his burns weren't too bad, he had a couple that sent him to the hospital when he was younger, one on his arm and one on his chest.

He was the bully of the schoolyard the entire time he was in school, he terrorized a group of losers, but a specific loser always held his interest more. The loudmouth Richie Tozier, aka Trashmouth, was his favorite victim. He wasn't sure why, but he just loved the terrified look in Richie's eyes as he beat the shit out of him, he loved seeing the bruises the next day, and he loved the smartass remarks the kid would make that fueled Patrick to hit him even more.

He knew how to get under Richie's skin, it got worse over the years, especially in high school when he swore Richie and Eddie had something going on between them, no one was that close and only friends. Patrick had given Henry a handjob in the past and they weren't as close as four eyes and the twink.

Patrick wasn't gay, he liked sexual pleasure and he also liked to fuck with people. Henry freaked out after the handjob and that gave him more of a thrill than when he jacked off at home afterward. He one time convinced Victor to blow him, that was a wild ride, Victor couldn't even finish, his gag reflex too strong. Patrick had fucked a few girls, usually tourists who didn't know him.

So now at the age of nineteen, Patrick did what he always did best, scared teenagers, beat up boys just for the fun of it, and burned shit. That was his life and he liked it that way, it was simple and it was freeing.

  
  


____

  
  
  


Summertime in Derry was never boring, there was always something going on, kids going missing, festivals, and no school so there was always someone around to use as a punching bag. Today Patrick was fighting with Henry, something set the guy off, probably his old man hitting him again, Henry constantly pissed off his father, and that's never a good idea when your father is the Sheriff.

So here Patrick was, sitting at the edge of the cliff at the barons, Victor and Belch sitting at a tree, away from the edge, and Henry pacing angrily back and forth behind Patrick. His feet dangled about the water down below, the cool breeze helping the air feel not as hot, and without Henry's bickering, it would actually be a nice calm afternoon.

The louder Henry got, the more annoyed Patrick was getting and he was ready to punch Henry in the face. Victor and Belch were quiet, not wanting to piss Henry off, but Patrick wasn't afraid to do so. He was the only person in Derry who was not afraid of Henry Bowers.

Although Patrick was afraid of almost nothing in the commonly understood sense of the word (it's hard to be afraid of things that aren't "real"), there was at least one thing that filled him with wretched loathing. He had come out of Brewster Lake one warm August day when he was seven to discover four or five leeches clinging to his stomach and legs.

So leeches were Patrick's limit, leeches gave him the sensation of pain, whereas holding a lighter flame to his hand made him feel excited. Patrick stopped caring about a lot of things, his parents, school, and anything else a normal person his age would be invested in. Instead, he was only interested in fire and causing pain to others. He liked to watch someone bleed, he liked to hear the sicking crack of a bone being broken. Patrick enjoyed the look in someone's eyes as they felt the physical pain he had inflicted on them. He loved the psychological aspect of hurting people, the fear and dread he caused were delicious.

"I swear to god if my old man ever-"

"Shut the fuck up Bowers! Fuck, you bitch more than my mom does when she's on the rag," Patrick yelled.

Henry stopped in his tracks and narrowed his eyes at Patrick. Victor and Belch sat up straighter, waiting to see what would happen. They knew how insane Henry could get and seeing him slowly stalk over to Patrick was scary.

Henry finally got to Patrick and smacked the back of his head. Patrick let out a groan and before he could turn to look at Henry and yell at him more, Henry kicked his back, he kicked Patrick right in the middle of his back, and it caused him to fall over the edge.

  
  


Now Patrick knew how to swim, he just never swam in the Barrens because he refused to swim anywhere that could have leeches. Henry's laughter and yelling of obscenities could be heard as Patrick got closer and closer to the water. He felt the force of impact on his feet, felt the cold water swallow him up, and then he was surrounded by darkness.

The water in the barrens wasn't the cleanest or the clearest and didn't smell the greatest. It was brown, murky water. For the first time since that day at Brewster Lake when he was seven, he felt afraid. The water seemed to be bottomless, he was caught in the middle with no way to push himself towards the surface, he thrashed and tried to swim upwards but it was no use. He screamed but it was muffled by the water, he continued to fight the water, he needed air soon or water would fill his lungs. He could feel little pinpricks on his skin, his arms, neck, stomach, chest, and even his face and he knew. He knew that leeches were attacking his body. He was going to die as a feast for those disgusting creatures and he had no way to stop it.

He kept feeling more and more latch on, this was not the way his prison sentence of this fake world should go, his only sort of fear was part of ending his life, at least for now since he knew he would come back. So why was he scared? Maybe because for once he didn't know exactly what was going to happen and he didn't like that. He could kill Bowers for pushing him off the ledge and leaving him to drown.

Right as Patrick was about to let out the breath he was holding, he felt hands wrap around his arms and pull. His head broke the surface and he coughed and sputtered. He felt his body being pulled towards the shore, by who he didn't know. Once the water was shallow enough, just barely at Patrick's waist while he was sitting, his arms were released and he turned around to see who saved him.

The realization of who saved his life brought everything to a halt. He froze, his brain stalled, and his eyes widened as he saw sitting there, soaking wet, was the trashmouth himself, Richie Tozier. The kid who he made life a living hell for, the kid who he punched and kicked hundreds of times, the kid he chased around town threatening to kill him.

That very kid was breathing heavily right in front of him. Richie saved his life and he honestly had no clue why. He looked like a drowned rat, black curls in his face, glasses askew on his face, his stupid purple Hawaiian button-up falling off of him, his Street Fighter t-shirt clinging tightly to his body, and his jean shorts looking almost black from the water. Richie was already taking off his socks and shoes and threw them to dry land.

"You saved me?"

Richie jumped as Patrick spoke and looked at him slowly and nodded. He looked terrified, he must have acted before thinking and was now regretting it with every fiber of his being. His body even started to shake as the realization set in that he saved his biggest tormenter.

Before Patrick could say more he saw the wiggles of leeches on his arm and he screamed and thrashed around and shook his arms, trying to get them off. He jumped up and ran to dry land a few feet away and began trying to tug off the leeches.

The leeches did not want to let go. He pulled and managed to get one off and he threw it away from his body, the spot it was attached to trickled with blood and it really hurt, the teeth or whatever leeches latch on with must have torn his skin. He sat down shaking and trying to yank another off when Richie sat down in front of him and grabbed his hand.

"Stop, you'll hurt yourself more if you do that, you gotta make them let go," Richie said as he pulled a lighter out of his pocket. It took several flicks before the flame appeared and once it did he held the flame up to a leech on Patrick's arm and as it burned the leech, the bloodsucker released itself and fell to the ground. Richie picked it up by the tail and threw it away from them and burned another.

"I can feel them on my face, get those first," Patrick requested.

Richie nodded and burned one that was on Patrick's cheek, right under his eye. Richie shuddered at the thought of just a few more inches and the leech could have attached to Patrick's eyeball. He burned another on Patrick's neck, careful to not touch Patrick's hair, then another that was on Patrick's other cheek, close to his jaw.

Once those were gone, Richie began to burn the leeches on Patrick's arms, there were at least seven of them on one arm, Patrick felt sick when he realized how many there were, the other arm only had four. One leech had managed to latch onto his hand.

Patrick took his t-shirt off, he knew he had some on his chest and stomach, possibly his back. Richie looked away, he tried to not look at Patrick as much as possible. His hands remained steady as he burned each leech off. His fingers lightly brushed the large scar from when Patrick burned himself when he was a kid, but he quickly moved on to the last leech that clung to Patrick's chest.

He checked Patrick's back and three leeches clung to his back, one right over his spine, Richie burned that one off first. Patrick flinched when he felt Richie's hand touch the skin along his spine.

"That's all I can see, do you feel any more on you?"

Patrick shook his head and put his soaked t-shirt back on. The air had grown cooler, the clouds looked like they might rain. Richie sat there looking unsure of what to do next. Should he run or stay? Which would piss off Patrick more?

"Thanks," Patrick muttered.

He wasn't used to saying those words, especially to Richie of all people. Richie nodded and put his lighter in his pocket. Patrick wondered why Richie was even around there in the first place, and alone at that. Richie and his friends never stayed near Bowers and his gang, especially if they were alone.

"Yeah well, I couldn't just let you die."

"I mean, you could have and I wouldn't have blamed you," Patrick responded.

Richie laughed and shook his head. Patrick hated to admit it but he always thought Richie had a nice smile, and when he laughed, it always sounded so happy, Patrick wondered what it felt like to be happy. Sure, he felt amusement when he was having fun at his secret fridge, but it wasn't happiness. He envied that about Richie, being able to be happy.

"I'm not a psychopath," Richie said after his laughter died down.

Richie's hands slapped over his mouth and his eyes grew wider as he realized he just insulted his tormentor who was actually not trying to kill him for once. He was always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time but Patrick laughed and it was something Richie was not expecting.

"Yeah, you're not. It looks like it's gonna rain, need a ride home?"

Richie's jaw dropped and he looked bewildered, was he dreaming? Was he already dead? Clearly, Patrick must have hit his head because Patrick didn't do nice things, and he really didn't do nice things for Richie.

"You saved my life, I owe you one. Plus I have no idea where Henry ran off to but he is pissed, he pushed me into the water, if I were you, I wouldn't want to risk finding him alone."

Richie seemed to think it over, which was the lesser of two evils for him? He could risk dying by Patrick's hand, or risk dying by a pissed off Henry's hand with Victor and Belch to help. He supposed risking a ride home with Patrick was less bad.

"Fine, but don't make me regret saving your ass."

The walk to Patrick's car was short and quiet, neither boys knew what to say. A bully and a victim riding in a car together sounded like some fucked up sitcom on tv. They got in and Patrick turned the heat on, after lowering the volume of his death metal since Richie jumped once it started playing. The car got warmer and both boys felt less cold and wet.

"Are you sure you're ok? You aren't acting like yourself?" Richie questioned even though he knew he shouldn't.

"Yeah, I'm just..."

"Terrified of leeches, I know," Richie finished for him.

Patrick looked over at Richie, shocked that he would know his one weakness. Richie seemed to pick up on Patrick's confusion.

"I overheard you talking to Henry about it once in school when I was like ten. You told him you were scared of them ever since you had some latch on to you at the lake when you were little."

"You remembered that?" Patrick asked, surprised.

Richie hummed in response and Patrick turned his head back to watching the road. He wasn't sure why Richie would remember that. He didn't remember half the shit trashmouth was scared of. The fact Richie remembered that detail was making him feel awkward and he wasn't sure why.

  
  


____

  
  
  


Patrick pulled up to Richie's house, rain had started pouring, it was hard to see through it. Richie unbuckled his seatbelt but he didn't make a move to get out. Patrick turned his music completely off and looked at his passenger. He could tell Richie was internally debating something so he waited.

"Did you want to come in? You could dry your clothes so you're not stuck in wet clothes all the way home."

Patrick was surprised, he was not expecting that. Richie Tozier asked him if he wanted to come inside his house. His parent's cars weren't in the driveway so Richie was knowingly asking his tormentor if he wanted to come inside his house with him, alone. Was Richie crazy or something because never in Patrick's life would he have ever expected this.

"Uh, sure," Patrick said as he shut off his car and got out.

They both walked up to the front door, Richie pulled out a house key that was in a fake rock and unlocked the door and opened it. Patrick followed Richie inside and closed the door behind him.

"I can get you some clothes to wear while yours are drying."

Richie started to head upstairs and Patrick quietly followed, he stayed in the doorway of Richie's room as Richie rummaged around for some pajama pants, a pullover hoodie, and a t-shirt. He handed them to Patrick and led him to the bathroom where he could change.

Patrick pulled off the wet clothes that clung to his skin, and put on the red plaid pajama pants that surprisingly fit well. Next was the t-shirt, a grey band tee with The Used in black lettering. Then he slipped on the black pullover hoodie with The Cure in white lettering. Patrick smirked at Richie's music choices, not bad for stuff that wasn't death metal.

He opened the door and Richie was standing against the wall across from the bathroom door, he had changed as well, into a pair of black pajama pants, and a black Rush t-shirt. He took Patrick's clothes and led them to the laundry room downstairs through the kitchen. Once the dryer was going he went into the fridge and pulled out a couple of his dad's beers and handed one to Patrick. Bottles were opened and both took a sip, then they headed back to Richie's room.

Richie had a tv across from his bed, he sat down on the floor against his bed, Patrick sat down next to him. Richie turned on the tv and pulled up Netflix. He searched for a movie and finally found some weird movie inspired by a Stephen King novel, something about kids in a cornfield.

"Stephen King sure is a fucked up dude," Richie announced when they were about halfway through the movie.

"The man was high as balls when he would write his books."

Richie giggled and Patrick wanted to punch something for finding that even remotely cute. This was his victim, this was the boy he tormented, this was the boy who would go back to hiding from him once their weird day was over.

Richie kept glancing at Patrick, this guy who he swore was the literal devil, was sitting next to him, watching a movie, and drinking a beer in his room. He was normally terrified of Patrick but after seeing him in such fear with the leeches, it kind of made him less scary, like Patrick was actually a human after all.

"What are you staring at Tozier?"

"Your mom," slipped out of Richie's mouth before he could even think.

The look on his face as he realized what he said was hilarious to Patrick. Richie could really be a fucking trashmouth and Patrick found it funny, he chuckled and shook his head. The way they were acting like friends was weird but things would go back to normal soon enough.

"Go find your little boyfriend to stare at."

Richie's cheek turned a bright shade of red and he struggled to get words out, seeing Richie like that was even cuter and Patrick almost smacked himself to try to get his mind to stop being so gay.

"I'm not gay!" Richie yelled.

Now Patrick could see that those words weren't true, he had seen how Richie would advert his eyes from himself many times and Patrick was definitely not someone Richie was interested in.

"Yeah, kid you are, it's so fucking obvious."

Richie looked scared, his eyes were wide and it almost seemed like he was trembling. Honestly Patrick didn't care if he was gay or not, Henry was the real homophobe in the group, Patrick just went along with bullying the gay kids because why the hell not?

"Fuck off! I am not!" Richie yelled after finding some courage.

Patrick tilted his head to the side, staring at Richie and he had a thought. If Tozier was going to keep lying, then he would make him confess. A creepy grin formed on Patrick's face and he grabbed Richie by the shirt and pulled him in. His lips crashed on Richie's and he felt Richie make a cute surprised noise and he could feel Richie freeze.

Just as Patrick was going to pull back, Richie not pushing him away proved his point, Richie started to kiss back. He wrapped his arms around Patrick's neck and played with his hair. He made cute little noises, whimpers that should not have affected Patrick the way that they were. Patrick put his hands on Richie's hips and pulled him on top of himself, Richie now straddling him and licking his bottom lip.

The tip of Richie's tongue on Patrick's lip made him shiver, he opened his mouth slightly to let Richie in and soon they were making out, their tongues rubbing against each other, teeth lightly biting the other's lips, and Patrick's hands roaming. First, he had his hands on Richie's back, slowly they started to move downwards, once landed on Richie's ass, he gave a squeeze and the moan that came out of Richie's mouth was incredibly hot, but when he felt Richie grind down on him, he felt the hard on Richie had, Patrick moaned as his erect dick got the friction it so badly craved.

They continued to make out like this, grinding against each other, licking into each other's mouths like they would die without it, and Richie tugging at Patrick's hair making him buck up into Richie. They both began panting into each other's mouths, the kissing becoming a bit sloppy but they both drew closer to their release that they were chasing. Richie began to whimper more and more as he got closer, and Patrick would be lying if he said that it wasn't a huge turn on.

They both came at the same time, Richie's forehead falling on Patrick's shoulder and Patrick's head falling back against the bed. The both were panting as they were coming down from their high, Richie was embarrassed as reality set in on what he had done, Patrick wondering why orgasms never felt that amazing before.

"Fuck," Richie muttered as he got up and ran to the bathroom.

  
  


Patrick found a box of tissues and cleaned himself up, threw the tissue away, and waited for Richie to come back. Ten minutes went by before Patrick stood up to go find out why Richie was taking so long to come back. He heard sniffling behind the bathroom door so he knocked.

"Go away," Richie pathetically croaked out.

Patrick rolled his eyes and tested the doorknob, it was unlocked so he opened the door to find Richie sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, his knees pulled up to his chest, and his arms around his legs. Patrick sat down beside Richie, their shoulders touching, and he bumped him gently.

"Please go away, you got what you wanted, you proved I'm a fag, go tell the whole world and get it over with so everyone can hate me."

Fresh tears began to fall down Richie's cheeks, his body shook as he cried, and he covered his face with his hands. Patrick then realized Richie thought this was all a setup, obviously, he wasn't going to tell everyone what he did with the trashmouth, he didn't have a deathwish.

"I'm not telling anyone,” Patrick muttered.

Richie looked up at Patrick, his bright blue eyes looked so pretty filled with tears. It was almost as if he was waiting for Patrick to laugh and say 'gotcha'. A minute passed and Patrick stayed silent, Richie tilted his head, confused but curious.

"You're not? This isn't some cruel sick joke?"

"No, I wasn't expecting all that to happen. I was just gonna kiss you figuring you would either push me away or kiss back and prove you're gay. I was not expecting... that", Patrick said as he moved his hands around.

"I uh, didn't know you you're-"

"Hold it right there Tozier. I'm not gay. I don't give a fuck about that shit, I fuck who I fuck and if sometimes they have a dick then fine, but I rarely get to fuck anyone in this damn town," Patrick explained.

Richie stared at Patrick, this was not a conversation he ever thought he would have with the town psycho. It also upset him that Patrick had beat him up for being "a fag" or called him every slur in the book, or even threatened his life. How can he do that but have no issue fucking a guy?

"So you're a hypocrite, you're a homophobe who beats on gay kids but doesn't care if he sticks it up a guy's ass?"

"No you fucker. Henry is the homophobe, I just go along with his shit, he is the leader after all, even though I don't really need any of them," Patrick said, sounding a little annoyed.

"So you're telling me, you don't even believe in the shit you do? What the fuck?"

The agitation in Richie's voice was apparent, so what if he bullied kids but didn't care? No one around him was real, but he had to admit, Richie had felt real, Richie made him feel the most intense orgasm he ever had, Richie made him feel weird, and he could feel Richie when he was in his arms. The thought freaked him out and he started to breathe heavily. Richie noticed and frowned.

"Patrick, you're fucked up," Richie said as he stood up to walk out of the bathroom.

Patrick shot up and pushed Richie against the door and pinned him down, glaring at him. Richie looked terrified, he knew he pushed too far and he was going to pay for it.

"You think you're so much better than me? How many times have you climbed up Weezy's tree by his bedroom window and just watched him? Then when you get caught you pretend you were coming to hang out? How about when you just stare at him with that goofy grin and then insult him afterward so he doesn't realize? Or when you make 'your mom' jokes while thinking of fucking him? You're just as much of a hypocrite as I am."

Richie looked at the floor, was he really that obvious? How had Patrick seen all that? He kept thinking of reasons Patrick would have been around but he came up with nothing? Was Patrick stalking him?

"Are you... Are you fucking stalking me?" Richie asked.

Patrick's eyes widened but he quickly composed himself. He smirked and loosened his grip on Richie.

"You wish."

  
  


Richie stared at Patrick, he knew, he was so sure Patrick watched him now. He always felt like a paranoid idiot but now he was positive that Patrick watched him. It made him feel scared, but it also was intriguing. The dangerous aspect was enticing but the logical side of him knew this was stupid. He shouldn't find a slight thrill in Patrick watching him, he should feel disgusted.

Richie surged forward and crashed his lips into Patrick's and was pleasantly surprised that Patrick instantly kissed him back like he was waiting for it to happen. No shock in Richie kissing him, he pressed his body against Richie's and put one of his hands on the small of Richie's back and the other in his hair.

Richie had put his hands on the back of Patrick's neck and every now and then he would twirl a bit of Patrick's hair, the kiss wasn't as intense as before, but it was still passionate, a little lazier but still just as thrilling.

The soft moans Richie made spurred Patrick on more, he would rock his body into Richie's to get some sort of friction, to feel every single place he could on Richie's body. He felt so many things when he made out with Richie, things he never felt before and he liked it. He wanted to feel more and more.

Richie's mind was racing, he was making out with Patrick Hockstetter, he initiated it. Every single touch he felt from Patrick was like feeling static slowly get more powerful until it could shock. He felt tingly when Patrick's hand touched the bare skin on his back, he shivered when Patrick's teeth nipped at his lip. He felt alive and that feeling was euphoric.

  
  


____

  
  
  


The buzzer from the dryer interrupted their makeout session, they both stopped and looked into each other's eyes, silently asking the other 'what now?' and that's when Patrick pulled away. The little world they had found themselves in shattered and brought them back to reality. Richie opened the door and they both made their way to the dryer to grab their clothes.

Patrick changed in the bathroom and muttered a 'thanks' as he handed Richie the clothes he borrowed from him. Richie nodded, not daring to speak, he wasn't sure what was going to happen next, would he die now? Would he be beaten to a pulp? It almost felt worse when he watched Patrick walk out the door. He heard the car start up and then drive off. Richie was left alone and confused.

He laid on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his feelings were so jumbled and messed up. Realistically even if Patrick did have actual feelings for Richie, they could never be together. Patrick would never admit to doing anything with a guy. Richie didn't want to be beaten or killed for being with a guy, it was best just to forget the whole thing ever happened and go back to avoiding Patrick.

He groaned as he remembered how Patrick's lips felt against his, he knew he was fucked, by some horrible misfortune, Richie Tozier was attracted to Patrick Hockstetter.

  
  


____

  
  


Patrick drove well over the speed limit on his drive home, he passed a cop who saw who the driver was and looked the other way. Cops in Derry left Patrick alone, sometimes it paid to be friends with the sheriff's son. Thoughts of every single thing that happened at Richie's house played over and over in his head.

He parked in his driveway and sat there for a minute. He hit the steering wheel a few times and yelled. He felt so stupid and he felt vulnerable and he hated it.

He got out of his car and walked inside his house, his mom was cooking dinner and didn't even look up when he walked in. It smelled like she was making steak and baked potatoes, his father's favorite meal. His dad was still at work so he didn't have to hear more lectures on him wasting his life away or worse, dealing with his father's drunken rage.

He peeked his head into Avery's room, the kid was like a mini version of Patrick, only he didn't dress as grungy as his older brother. They had the same piercing blue eyes and soft black hair. Avery was fourteen, so there was a five year age gap, but they always got along and oftentimes they would cling to each other.

Avery sat at his computer playing Minecraft. The kid was obsessed with the game, rarely left his room, and even though multiple doctors told the Hockstetters that it was normal for a boy like him to hyperfixate on something, his parents still grew frustrated with their son.

Patrick was the only one who didn't care if his brother was different, he didn't care that Avery didn't talk unless it was about his current hyperfixation, and he didn't care about what anyone thought of his little brother.

"Hey dork, how goes it in block land?"

Avery snorted but didn't look away from the screen, he was building some huge house or castle, he was so talented in building the coolest looking things in the game.

"Come sit, I'll show you what I'm working on in _Minecraft_ ," Avery corrected.

Patrick chuckled and sat in the chair next to Avery that his brother set up for him to watch. Patrick was the one person Avery would always talk to, they had a strong bond and Avery was deemed the safest kid in Derry. No one would dare pick on him or hurt him, not with Patrick as his older brother.

"Dude, this is badass," Patrick said, amazed.

  
  


"Why do you smell like lake water?"

Avery was always very blunt when he would ask questions, usually, their parents got on to him for it but Patrick didn't mind.

"Henry pushed me into the water at the barrens," Patrick told him.

There was never any use lying to Avery, he always knew if you were. The kid was a human lie detector.

"Oh. I don't like him. He says mean things to you when he comes over," Avery said as he began attacking a skeleton.

"Yeah, but don't worry. I'm fine."

Avery sat still for a minute, thinking, he always got such a stern look on his face when he was thinking.

"You smell like cologne, not the kind you or your friends wear. Who were you with?"

The color drained from Patrick's face. Damn his brother's attention to detail and noticing fucking everything out of place.

"You don't know him," Patrick dismissed.

"Is it a secret? Do you have a boyfriend?"

Patrick's jaw dropped as he stared at his brother. Avery kept looking at the computer screen but he knew Patrick was staring.

"No! What the fuck!? His name is Richie, ok?" Patrick said defensively.

"Oh, so you just like him then."

"What?! No, I don't!"

For the first time since Patrick came into his room, Avery looked away from the screen and at Patrick. That usually meant they were about to have some real talk, it was serious.

"You know I don't care if you like boys right? I'm not gonna tell anyone. Also before you deny it more, you have mumbled that name in your sleep before," Avery said and with that, he turned back to the computer screen.

Patrick stood up and left Avery's room to go hide in his room. He closed the door, put on some music, too loud for his mom's liking but not too loud to bother Avery. He laid on his bed, stared at the ceiling, and wondered how the fuck he got to this point.

  
  


____

  
  


A few days later, Patrick was driving through downtown Derry, when he saw Henry Bowers beating on some poor kid in the alleyway beside Keene's Pharmacy. People walked by, ignoring the scene in the alleyway, that's what the residents of Derry did, ignored anything that didn't affect them. Mr. Keene once tried stepping in when Henry Bowers broke Eddie Kaspbrak's arm, but that had ended in Henry beating the shit out of the pharmacist and Mr. Keene never interfered again.

Then Patrick saw who the poor kid was Henry was beating in the alley, Richie fucking Tozier. Patrick swerved his car to the alley and parked so close to Henry that he almost touched Henry with his car.

"Bowers! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Patrick asked as he got out of his car and slammed the driver door shut but left the car running.

Henry looked incredibly confused. He had punched Richie a couple of times in the face already, nose bleeding and glasses askew. He would definitely have a black eye. By the way Richie held his stomach, Henry probably punched him a couple times there too.

"What does it look like I'm fucking doing?" Henry spit out.

Richie looked at Patrick, terrified and maybe even a bit dazed. Henry loosened his hold on Richie just slightly, glaring at his friend who had the nerve to act like they didn't do this every day.

"Don't touch trashmouth, got it?" Patrick demanded.

Henry now released his hold on Richie, glared at him as if daring him to try to run, then turned to Patrick.

"What the fuck? We always beat on the fairy."

"Tozier is mine. No one touches him but me. Fuck _off_ ," Patrick yelled.

Patrick walked over to Richie and pulled him roughly by the arm and opened his car's door to the back seat. He pushed Richie in and slammed the door then walked around to the driver's side and opened the driver door.

"Touch him again and you won't like what happens," Patrick said before getting in his car and shutting the door.

He pulled away from the alley and a very confused Henry Bowers. He drove away from downtown and towards the secluded area that was the kissing bridge. The bridge had carvings of initials and confessions of love from teenagers and sometimes even young adults.

Richie was silent the entire time, laying on the backseat, afraid to speak and trying very hard not to get blood on Patrick's car interior. He had no idea where they were going and he was too scared to ask.

Once Patrick pulled over a little off the road he turned around to look at the scared boy in his backseat. He wasn't even exactly sure why seeing Henry beating Richie made him so angry.

"Get in the front seat."

Richie scrambled to sit up and opened the door cautiously to step out and get right back in the car, only now in the passenger seat. Patrick touched Richie's face, checking the extent of the injuries, felt his nose to make sure it wasn't broken, and overall looked displeased at Henry's work.

"Why the fuck was Henry doing this?" Patrick asked.

"Does he need a reason? He saw me, that's it," Richie shrugged.

Patrick frowned as he stopped touching Richie and sat back. He wasn't sure what he should do next, or even say next. He saved Richie and he wasn't even sure why, he had beat the kid countless times and so had Henry, but seeing it happen after Richie saved his life, among other things, Patrick didn't want Richie to get hurt, he wanted to protect him.

Patrick began to drive towards his house, Richie didn’t say a word, and soon Patrick was parking in his driveway. Richie looked at the house, it wasn’t old and decrepit like he assumed, it looked normal and nice.

The windows had white painted shutters on the windows, the grey brick complimenting the white wood paneling around the edges of the roof and the windowsills. It was a modest house, not too large and not too small, in a good neighborhood.

They both got out of the car and headed towards the door and Patrick just opened it and walked inside, Richie followed and shut the door behind him. The welcome mat at the front door was almost funny to Richie. Who in their right mind would feel welcome at the Hockstetter's house?

Patrick's mother was in the kitchen, she was baking, it smelled amazing, maybe a pie or cookies. She was well known for her amazing baking, always contributing to the school's bake sale, even after her son dropped out of Derry High.

Richie continued to follow Patrick down a hallway until they got to the end, and Patrick opened the door to his room and they both went inside. He shut the door behind them and pointed at his bed for Richie to sit on.

Patrick went into his bathroom that was connected to his bedroom and gathered a few things, Richie looked around taking in everything.

Patrick's room was similar to his, stacks of comics, posters, photos of bands and movies, and a messy desk covered with papers, pencils, and pens. That's when he noticed that Patrick had quite a lot of art supplies, an impressive amount, Richie got off the bed and walked over to the desk and picked up a sketchpad and started looking through it.

The sketchpad contained some of the most amazing drawings Richie had ever seen. Some were of people, like his friends, Victor and Belch, even a few of Henry. Some were scary looking creatures and haunting drawings that looked like Patrick must have really intense nightmares or an incredibly fucked up imagination.

Patrick walked back into his room right as Richie turned the page and saw a sketch of himself. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He actually looked pretty good, way better than he saw himself, and he looked up to see Patrick staring at him, with fear in his eyes.

"Give me that!" Patrick yelled as he walked over and yanked the sketchpad out of Richie's hands.

Richie ran back to Patrick's bed and sat exactly in the same spot he had earlier. He picked at his nails, he didn't mean to upset Patrick. He didn't expect to see a drawing of himself.

Patrick sat down next to Richie and began to clean the now dried blood off his face and neck. Richie sat as still as possible, refusing to look at Patrick.

"I draw the shit I see, you just happened to be at the barrens that day. Don't think you're special," Patrick muttered.

Richie nodded and trembled a little. He really shouldn't be here, he really should have run away when he got out of the car. The weird day they had together a few days ago was just a weird day, they weren't friends, they weren't anything but enemies.

"You're pretty good, a-at drawing," Richie mumbled.

Patrick stilled for a moment and a small smile crept on his lips. Patrick put a couple of band-aids on the cut on the side of Richie's forehead and then he was done.

Richie watched him as he threw trash away and put away the rest of the stuff he used. Patrick rummaged through his bedside table and pulled out a small tin, inside were a few joints and he took one out. Grabbing a lighter he lit the joint and took a drag.

The smoke felt warm in his lungs and he smiled and felt more at ease. He got back on his bed and laid down then held out the joint to Richie. Richie stared at it for a moment, worried it was a trap, but then he took it and took a drag himself, he laid down next to Patrick and then passed the joint back to him.

They both smoked together in silence, a few stupid comments here and there but they mostly just laid together in comfortable silence. Once the joint was done with, Richie closed his eyes and he started to doze. Patrick watched as Richie's chest rose and fell with each soft breath, he wasn't so annoying when he was asleep.

Patrick was in uncharted territory, the kid he relentlessly bullied was asleep next to him in his bed. He noticed how pretty Richie's face was, soft and pale, his long eyelashes resting peacefully, his chapped lips relaxed, Richie had been growing into his looks.

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt Richie turn on his side and snuggle up against him. He froze, unsure of what to do. Richie was warm and sleep was ever so inviting, he could close his eyes for a moment or two.

He really hadn't meant to fall asleep, but the steady sound of Richie breathing lulled him to sleep.

  
  


____

  
  
  


Patrick was woken up by yelling, his father was home and not in a good mood. He felt Richie sit up next to him and looked worried, unsure if he should try to leave or stay where he was. When Patrick heard the sound of a slap and Avery cry out, he bolted out of the bed and ran to Avery’s room.

He walked in to see Avery sitting on his bed, hand holding the side of his face, tears in his eyes, and refusing to look up at his father. Mr. Hockstetter was still yelling at Avery when Patrick shoved him.

“Leave him alone!”

Patrick’s father managed to not fall down and once steady on his feet again he grabbed Patrick by his shirt and yanked him close to where Patrick could feel his breath on his face. He could smell alcohol on his father’s breath.

“You will respect me in my own home or you can get out!” Patrick’s father yelled before slamming his fist into Patrick’s face.

Patrick fell back, dazed and in pain, he was sure he would have a black eye from that. Avery was crying and Patrick stood up and stood in front of his younger brother. He could take the beating, Avery couldn’t.

“Just go sleep it off!” Patrick growled.

Mr. Hockstetter stumbled away, muttering profanities and threats. Patrick let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding and turned around and squatted down in front of Avery, checking his tear-stained face. His cheek had a bright red handprint, his lips trembled, trying to hold back from crying again.

“Hey, it's ok, you’re ok,” Patrick whispered.

Patrick grabbed the weighted blanket off of the foot of the bed and wrapped it around his brother, hoping it would soothe him. He heard footsteps behind him and he turned around, ready to fight off his father when he saw Richie standing at the doorway, looking worried. Patrick relaxed and stood up to walk over to Richie.

“Could you stay here and watch him while I get an ice pack for him?”

Richie nodded and Patrick headed to the kitchen, Richie looked around the room, _Minecraft_ posters were all over the walls, books were arranged neatly on the bookshelf, and clothing was thrown all over the floor.

Richie sat next to Avery and watched the boy try to calm himself down. Then Richie got an idea and pulled out a fidget spinner he had in his pocket, he held it out to Avery, and with trembling hands, Avery took it and began to spin it. Richie smiled as he saw that it seemed to help a little.

Patrick walked back in and held out the ice pack, Avery grabbed it with one hand, not stopping the spinning in the other hand and continued to stare at the fidget spinner.

“What’s that?”

“It's my fidget spinner, it helps with ADHD and other things like autism and anxiety. Pretty much anything that can give people sensory overload,” Richie explained.

Avery froze and slowly looked up and over to Richie. He looked a little confused and unsure but a huge smile broke out on his face.

“Trashmouth69?!”

Richie’s eyes went wide and he laughed.

“The one and only!”

Patrick looked at both his brother and Richie, very much confused, how did Avery know Richie’s nickname? Also, why sixty-nine after it? The look of pure joy on Avery’s face made it worth the confusion. He looked like he was seeing an old friend again. How could they have possibly known each other?

“It’s me! SayAH!”

Richie perked up even more and his smile grew bigger as his excitement grew. He knew SayAH on _Minecraft_ , they played together all the time, usually around this time.

“Holy shit! I can’t believe I’m meeting you!”

“I know! I was wondering why you weren’t online and now I know! I recognized your voice!”

Patrick was looking at both of them, amused and also he kind of liked it, Richie and Avery getting along, although he wasn’t sure why he liked it. His friends didn’t even talk to his brother, they didn’t really know how to act around him.

“How do you know my brother?” Avery asked.

“Oh uh, school.”

“Yeah, kinda weird you know Richie but it's cool,” Patrick said.

“Richie! This is Richie?” Avery asked.

Patrick could see Avery was putting it all together. He never forgot anything and he was so sure Patrick had feelings for Richie. He had to make sure Avery didn’t say anything like that to Richie, that would be something he would not recover from.

“Your taste has gotten a lot better, I approve,” Avery said and then stood up to go back to his computer, and back to _Minecraft_.

  
  


Richie looked confused, even more so when he saw how bright red Patrick was. They both left to go back to Patrick’s room, Richie sat on the bed and Patrick went into the bathroom to look at his face, there was already a huge bruise forming around his eye, yeah, he was going to have a black eye. He splashed some water on his face and then plopped down on his bed and groaned.

“You should get an ice pack for that shiner,” Richie said softly.

“I’ve had worse,” Patrick shrugged.

  
  
  


____

  
  
  


Patrick drove Richie home once his father left, probably to go to a bar, alcohol was rarely kept in the house once Patrick started taking it when he was in high school. The music was turned down but neither said anything. The sun was starting to set and the air grew less suffocating as the heat lessened.

Once in Richie’s driveway, Patrick noticed Richie frowning, and he almost looked sad. Neither of the Tozier’s cars was in the driveway, that must mean they were traveling again.

Richie loved his parents, they loved him and he loved them. They just weren’t always around like he would have liked. Sure his father brought home quite a bit of money, and sure his mother was a successful woman, but more often than not, both were gone a lot. Whether on business trips or taking a couples vacation, they weren’t home much, especially since Richie was old enough to stay home alone. He would get lonely, sometimes he would have his friends over just so he wouldn’t be alone, other times he would sneak into Eddie’s room and stay the night there.

Richie hated being alone, but he hated it more when his parents say they will be home this week and then forget to tell Richie the plan had changed. They were supposed to watch movies tonight, Richie had been looking forward to it for a month, there was probably a note with a couple hundred in cash for food, but still, Richie would rather spend time with his parents then be alone with two hundred dollars and eat his feelings.

“What’s wrong?” Patrick asked.

“Nothing,” Richie mumbled and got out of the car.

Patrick knew he should drive off, he knew he should leave. He and Richie were not friends so why should he care that the younger boy was visibly upset? Before he knew what he was doing he shut off his car and got out, followed Richie to the door, and leaned against the wall.

“I can tell something is wrong.”

Richie looked over as he unlocked the door and groaned. He really didn’t want to sound like a wuss in front of Patrick, he just wanted to go inside, eat a whole tub of ice cream, and maybe raid his father’s liquor cabinet.

“I’m fine, you can go,” Richie said as he walked inside.

Patrick followed and shut the door behind him, locking it, and turned back to see Richie looked scared. Maybe Richie pressed his luck and now he was about to have his teeth knocked in. He refused to let his eyes tear up, exhausted from the day and hurt that his parents weren’t there.

“I’m not going to hurt you, fuck,” Patrick said annoyed but softened when he saw Richie flinch, “I don’t want to be at home, not when my dad is likely at a bar, you seem lonely, why don’t we just chill?”

Patrick knew his words were lame, fuck he barely believed them himself and it was the truth. Avery would be safe, Patrick had him lock the door before he left, his dad never bothered with locked doors which is why Patrick made sure he and Avery both locked their bedroom doors at night, just in case.

“Who are you and what have you done with the real Patrick Hockstetter?”

Patrick laughed which made Richie start laughing, Richie never noticed that Patrick’s laugh was kind of nice when it wasn't maniacal or happening while he was burning or cutting someone.

“I’ll order pizza, my parents leave me money for food,” Richie said as he pulled his phone out and began to make the order.

Patrick walked into the kitchen, looking for something to drink, found some cans of _Coke_ , and grabbed two of them. He placed one in front of Richie on the table and opened his own. Being in Richie’s house again, without an intent to harm the boy was weird.

“Says it will be here in twenty minutes,” Richie said as he grabbed the can of _Coke_ to take a drink.

“Now what could we do in that amount of time?”

  
  
  


____

  
  
  


“I’m going to fucking murder you Hockstetter!”

“You’re dead, Tozier, dead!”

“Not if I kill you first!”

“Fuck! How the fuck do you win every time?!” Patrick yelled as he tossed the gaming controller on the ground.

Richie stood up off the floor and started dancing around and singing how he was the king and Patrick was a loser. Patrick tackled Richie to the ground, the boy under him laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

“You cheated!” Patrick accused him.

“Nope! You just suck!” Richie yelled as he flipped them over, now Richie straddling Patrick.

They both were breathing heavily and their laughing was dying down, they looked at each other and they both could feel themselves being pulled towards each other. Then the doorbell rang, the moment was gone and Richie jumped up to get the door, looking flustered but composing himself.

Patrick stood up but stayed where he was, he didn’t want anyone seeing him in Richie’s house, he knew that could make Richie an even bigger target and possibly make Patrick a target as well.

“Pizza is served!” Richie said loudly as he came back to the couch and sat the pizza box on the coffee table. Both of them sat on the couch, put on a B Horror movie, and ate until they could eat no more.

  
  
  
  


____

  
  
  


Both boys had fallen asleep during the first Friday the 13th movie and woke up to the fourth one playing. They had added some whiskey to their drinks and once they were full, tipsy, and relaxed, they passed out.

“Shit what time is it?” Richie asked, groggily.

Patrick pulled out his phone and groaned as he saw it was two in the morning. He felt like he needed to drink a gallon of water so he handed Richie his phone to show him the time and then got up and filled a huge glass with water, chugged it, and then filled it back up to chug some more.

“I don’t know about you but I’m going to get in my bed and hopefully sleep for a week,” Richie said as he slowly started heading for his room.

Patrick smirked and followed the boy, he wasn’t sure if that was an invitation to join him or what but he would find out. Richie began to pull off his shirt and pants, Patrick’s eyebrows shooting up. Richie flopped on the bed and made a content sigh as he started getting comfortable under the blankets.

Patrick did the same, took off his pants and shirt and jumped into the bed with Richie, he found it slightly awkward at first but Richie turned on his side and pressed himself against Patrick, so Patrick wrapped his arm around Richie and he was spooning with the kid he used to bully. It felt nice, Richie was warm, as always, they fit well together, Patrick’s chest to Richie’s back, both were comfortable and even though it would most likely go unsaid, they both enjoyed it.

  
  
  
  


____

  
  
  
  


Patrick wasn’t sure how it started, but he found himself lightly running his fingertips up and down Richie’s outer thigh. He felt the goosebumps that appeared along with the touches and he felt Richie shiver. He liked the reaction Richie was giving him, possibly still asleep, and he moved his hand closer to the inner part of Richie’s thigh.

Richie pushed his ass back into Patrick’s crotch, making slow soft movements that were driving Patrick nuts. So he moved his hand to Richie’s inner thigh, rubbing from midthigh to the top, so close to touching where Richie’s body wanted him to touch.

A moan escaped Richie’s lips and his breathing hitched when he felt hot breath on his neck, a warm wet tongue, and then teeth biting down. That earned Patrick a loud moan.

“Fuck,” Richie said strained and his voice cracking.

Patrick took his hand away from Richie’s thigh and tilted Richie’s head back a little so he could pull him into a heated kiss. Richie kept moaning as their kiss became a bit sloppy, finally, he turned over onto his other side and he was able to kiss Patrick better. They were both pressed up against each other, grinding against each other, and their hands roaming each other’s bodies.

Richie felt the burn deep down in his abdomen, he tried to get enough friction to make that feeling even better but with Patrick holding him so close and tight, he couldn’t get the exact friction he craved.

Patrick felt like a horny teenager making out in Richie’s bed, he hadn’t done this in a long time, normally he would just fuck someone and that was it. With Richie there was teasing, there were kisses, he was able to just feel good and take his time and enjoy the moment.

Richie whined in Patrick’s mouth and that nearly made Patrick come on the spot, he got on top of Richie, held him down, and started kissing his jaw, his neck, and down to his navel. He slid Richie’s boxers off and Richie’s panting was getting faster but Patrick still ignored Richie’s achingly hard dick. Kisses and bites made their way back up Richie’s body and he desperately wanted to ask Richie if he had lube but he didn’t want the moment to shatter.

“Patrick, please fuck me!” Richie whined and that was all it took.

Richie pointed towards his bedside table, not saying a word but hoping Patrick understood what he meant, Patrick grabbed the bottle of lube and put some on his finger. He rubbed Richie’s hole and Richie bucked up, Patrick wondered if he had ever done this before.

Slowly, his finger started to go in Richie’s hole, sinking in deeper, Richie whimpering at the feeling, and once he was relaxed, Patrick added a second finger, this time Richie moaned loudly and he grabbed the sheets to hold on to.

Patrick slowly began to stretch Richie out, scissoring his fingers and moving his fingers in and out. He grazed Richie’s prostate and Richie cried out.

“Shit! Yes!”

Patrick grinned and added a third finger, this time hitting Richie’s prostate every time. Richie was shaking, he was getting closer and closer to reaching his climax, he felt the pooling heat start to boil.

“Wait! You have to stop or I’ll come,” Richie tried to get out.

Patrick leaned down until his face was a few inches from Richie’s and he smirked. Richie’s stomach dropped at how hot Patrick looked, how had he never noticed how attractive that fucking smirk was?

“Oh baby, you’re so cute thinking you’re only gonna come once tonight,” Patrick whispered and then began slamming his fingers in and out of Richie’s hole.

Richie screamed and tried so hard to keep from coming but he felt himself go past the point of no return and he came, untouched. It was intense, it was long, and as Patrick continued to fuck into his hole, still hitting his prostate, he felt his body start rolling into a second orgasm.

More cum covered his stomach and he moaned Patrick’s name over and over again. Patrick didn’t realize that could even happen for guys, he had never had a second orgasm right after the first, if this was normal for Richie, they were going to have a lot of fun together.

The overstimulation started getting to Richie and he whined for Patrick to stop. Patrick slowly pulled out his fingers and smirked at the spent boy under him. He was so pretty with flushed cheeks and cum painted on his naked body. His body trembling as he came down from his high and his breathing becoming normal again meant now it was his turn to chase his orgasm.

Patrick slicked up his dick with lube and had Richie turn over onto all fours. At first, Richie was skeptical but as he felt Patrick line himself up to his hole and felt Patrick’s chest rest against Richie’s back, he found he liked it very much.

Patrick slowly started pushing in, he could feel how tight and warm Richie was, Richie could feel quite a stretch, Patrick was a little larger than average and Richie had no complaints. He loved the slight burn as he felt his hole stretch to accommodate Patrick’s cock.

Once Patrick was fully inside, he stilled, waiting for Richie to adjust to the intrusion, a kindness he never offered to anyone else. He hit it and quit as fast as possible with every sexual partner he had, but not with Richie. He wanted to feel every single thing, he wanted it to last.

“You can move,” Richie whispered.

Patrick pulled out slowly until only the head was inside and he pushed back in, he started to build up the pace, going faster and harder with each moan that came from Richie’s mouth.

“Fuck! Yes!” Richie shouted.

Richie was starting to babble and Patrick found it adorable. Richie could feel the wonderful heat pooling again and he knew he would come a third time. Patrick felt himself building up his climax higher and higher, he began fucking into Richie at a brutal pace, harder and faster.

The tightness around his cock was glorious, the heat he was thrusting into brought this experience to an entirely different level.

Richie’s whines and whimpers were spurring him on, he was close.

“P-Patrick, I’m c-close,” Richie stuttered.

“Me too, babe.”

Patrick and Richie came together, their moans loud, their orgasms intense. Richie fell to his chest, unable to hold himself up anymore, Patrick fell onto Richie, feeling worn out and so very good.

“Holy shit, we actually fucking did that,” Patrick said after both of them came down from their high.

“Yeah, we did,” Richie said with a small laugh.

  
  
  


____

  
  
  


After both of them cleaned themselves up, Richie changed his sheets, cum was all over it, and put on new sheets, they both laid back down, both back in their boxers, and spooning once again. Feeling content and satiated, Patrick squeezed his arms a little, holding Richie felt amazing and he hoped Richie understood that.

“I know in the morning we should probably talk but um, I really enjoy this, like a lot,” Richie said shyly.

“I did too. I wish I hadn’t been such an ass to you for so long, we could have been doing this the whole time!”

“Really?” Richie said unamused.

“Sorry, I just mean, I like you more than I thought I would. Like I used to just hate you, for no reason, then you grew on me after saving me, and now…”

“Now you feel something?” Richie asked hopefully.

Patrick nodded his head, afraid to say the words out loud, the town of Derry was not a safe place for them to be together, neither of their friend groups would accept it, Henry the huge homophobe and his band of misfit homophobes would probably try to kick his ass, and possible kill Richie.

Richie’s friends hated Patrick for good reason, and Richie knew it would be a long shot for them to look past all that. They would have to stay a secret, from everyone, at least for now.

“I uh, I’m sorry,” Patrick said.

Richie froze and his eyes widened, Patrick never apologized for the shit that he did. That was new and maybe something that would convince his friends that Patrick had changed.

“I know, I can feel it.”

Richie snuggled his body against Patrick as much as he could, they were already pressed up against each other but Richie wanted to be even closer. He fell asleep shortly after, Patrick not too far behind. Patrick felt something inside him changing, it was scary but it also felt good. Maybe he could be worth Richie’s time, maybe he could even become good for Richie. Maybe the world around him was more real than he previously thought.

**Author's Note:**

> so what did y'all think? I may write a part 2 depending on how this fic does, I love this pairing and there needs to be more content for it.  
> Let me know what y'all think!
> 
> Also I'd like to mention that autism is different for everyone, the way Avery acts doesn't mean every single person with autism acts that way. Its called a spectrum for a reason. If something I have written bothers you about how I wrote Avery feel free to bring it up with me. Just know that I am not trying to make him the stereotypical autistic boy the media always portrays, the reason Avery is so reclusive is because of his parents, his parents don't want to learn about how their son is different, they just want him to be normal and that causes a lot of issues for Avery.  
> Avery is a lot more social with Patrick because Patrick accepts him the way he is and doesn't try to change him or get angry for how he is.  
> Avery doesn't leave his room a lot because his home isn't an accepting environment and his parents would rather hide him away than be embarrassed that their son isn't "normal".


End file.
